What You Need
by AngelOfLorien
Summary: Daryl/OFC. (PART TWO OF ?) Sequel to "What You Want". Jules and Daryl on the day of the discovery on the farm. (Based on the episode "Pretty Much Dead Already", S2e7) Rated M for Language and Sexuality.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **I'll be perfectly honest and say that I have no concept of time when it comes to how long the course of season 2 was supposed to have been. I don't know if it was supposed to have been a couple of weeks or a month or more, which is why Jules addressed the issue in Part One. Anyway, the plot bunnies like Jules, so here's another semi-shortie with her in it. Hope you enjoy!

Jules Greene liked to consider herself a normal southern woman. She had the warm, welcoming personality of someone who'd been raised in a small town, she went to church most Sundays, and she rarely used bad language around people older than her. She'd always struggled some with that last one, but she was only human, after all.

She had struggled with it a few days ago, as a matter of fact, as her uncle paced his small office and read her the Riot Act for getting involved with one of the strangers who had tumbled onto the property a while back. From what Maggie'd told her, Hershel wasn't all that keen on people from the Greene household mixing with the others and he'd called Jules into his office to 'discuss' her relationship, such as it was. He'd immediately gone off on a tangent about sin and danger and blah blah blah. Jules stopped listening about forty-five seconds into it.

_"Are you even listening to me, Juila Elaine?"_

_Jules snapped her eyes from the carpet and looked at her uncle, eyebrows raised. "Absolutely." His scowl deepened and he leaned over his desk, bracing his palms on the surface. She took a deep breath. "Okay, no. Not really."_

_Hershel shook his head. "I know you think I'm just being a ridiculous old man, but those people are dangerous. That friend of yours is probably the most dangerous of the lot. They don't believe the same as us. They've killed people."_

_"All due respect, Uncle Hersh, they haven't killed anybody who wasn't already dead."_

_He slammed his hand sharply down onto the desk. "Enough! The dead _do not walk_, Julia. You know that as well as I do. Those people are sick, and that group out there—"_

_"I told you what I've seen!" Jules interrupted. "I told you what I saw the day my parents—"_

_"The fact of the matter is this," Hershel said, cutting her off with a curt wave of his hand. "While you're in my house, you abide my rules. You keep away from that man."_

_"It's not happening, Hershel." Jules stared at her uncle, chin lifted, jaw set defiantly. "I'm not a little kid you can boss around and I sure as hell ain't your daughter. You wanna follow Beth and Jimmy around all day long trying to make sure she doesn't give up her carnal treasure, that's your prerogative. Even Maggie—she's an adult, but she's yours, so if you want to take on that fight it is within your right. But I'm just barely on the green side of thirty, so I'll be damned if I give up what little bit of normalcy and intimacy I have just to appease you and your prejudices."_

_"Normalcy? You think that boy is normal?" Hershel demanded. "You think drinking and killing and taking advantage of emotionally vulnerable girls is _normal_? Lord, Julia, the man is nearly twice your age!"_

_Jules rolled her eyes and shook her head, waving her hands in front of her. "I'm not talking about this with you anymore. If you want me to, I'll move out to a tent. Otherwise, you might as well put it outta your head. I'm a grown woman, Uncle Hersh," she added, trying to take some of the sting from her voice. "I can make my own choices." She turned and started for the door, stopping when Hershel spoke again._

_"You might not be my daughter, girl, but you're my blood. Think about what your daddy'd say about you going around doing all kinds of things with that man."_

_"His name's Daryl, Hershel." She looked over her shoulder, her eyes cold and her face impassive. "And what my daddy would or wouldn't say is a rather moot point, wouldn't you say?" She left the office and slammed the door behind her._

Jules sighed as she remembered the argument, plunging her hands into the cool water that she was using to wash some t-shirts. Hershel hadn't asked her to move out of the house, thankfully, but it was nice out so she figured she would use it to her advantage and do some laundry.

She'd been with Daryl nearly every night since their talk in the woods, either in her bed or his, but he refused to sleep inside with her and insisted that she not sleep in his crappy tent. She suspected deep down that he was doing it as some sort of unconscious, good ol' boy respect thing. Still, she'd like to wake up next to him in a real bed at least once. She smiled at that notion, knowing that if she ever mentioned it to him that he would get all surly and probably say something assy.

She wrung the water out of the last shirt and flapped it out before hanging it on the line. She gathered her basket and headed for Daryl's tent, which was set a little ways out away from everybody else. She'd given him a few shirts that had practically taken an act of Congress to get him to accept, so she figured the least she could do was try to keep them from smelling like Sasquatch. She'd just tucked a faded t-shirt—amazingly, sleeves intact—into her basket when she heard him approaching. She glanced up and smiled, surprised when he seized her upper arms and gave her a good hard shake, making her drop the laundry basket.

"Did you know? Did you know about it?" he yelled, his fingers digging into her flesh.

She struggled against his grasp, shocked and flustered by his unprovoked attack. She broke his grip and slammed her palms against his chest, shoving him back a step. "What are you _talking_ _about_?"

Daryl regained his step and crowded in on her, putting his face in hers. "You really gonna stand there and pretend you don't know? Don't you fuckin' lie to me!"

"You best back up off me, Daryl," she said angrily. "Don't you accuse me of lying when I don't even know what the hell you're talking about!"

"I'm talking about the walkers!" he shouted, gesturing wildly. "The fuckin' walkers in the barn! You live here and you expect me to believe you didn't know they were there?"

She stared at him, mouth agape. "What?" Walkers in the barn? She shook her head, and when she spoke, her voice didn't sound like her own. "What do you…th-there's nothin' in the barn except some rusted-out tractor equipment. Hershel locked it up so nobody'd hurt themselves on it." Once she said it aloud, she realized just how flimsy of an excuse it was. Yet she'd never questioned it, not even for a minute. She looked Daryl in the eyes and struggled to breathe. Walkers. On the farm. In the barn. And Hershel had the audacity to say that _Daryl_ was dangerous? She shook her head again and turned away from him without another word, heading to the house in a daze.

Daryl watched her go before he looked down at his shaking hands and clenched his fingers into fists. When would he learn to control his damn temper? He raked a hand through his hair in frustration and sighed. He'd never admit it to anybody—had a hard time admitting it to himself—but he was scared. Knowing that there was a barn full of who knew how many walkers only a few hundred feet away from the house where Jules slept every night…it had terrified the shit out of him. And that had made him angry. Then to think that she might have known about it? He'd lost his head when he'd seen her fiddling around his stuff like everything was normal. But, he realized now, at the time she thought everything was.

She made it to the house. He didn't know what she was going to do when she came across one of the others, but he didn't have time to worry about it. Rick was going to meet with the old man to talk to him about the walkers he was keeping. More talk. Meanwhile, the trail for the little girl, virtually nonexistent to begin with, was getting even colder and he'd just alienated the only person who'd actually given a shit about him since…hell, _ever_. Daryl ripped his knife from his belt and threw it, burying the blade deep into the trunk of a nearby tree.

_Fuck! Could anything else go wrong?_


	2. Chapter 2

Jules felt her legs move, but she didn't register where she was going until she felt the creaky steps beneath her feet.

Her mind raced. Hershel kept walkers alive on the property. And Otis would have known, so there was little doubt that Patricia knew as well. She stood in front of the front door, staring blankly at it, not moving until she heard footsteps coming around the corner of the porch. She turned her head slowly at looked at Maggie as she approached. One look at Jules and Maggie knew that she had heard about the barn.

"Jules, I need you to listen to me."

Maggie's head snapped to the side as Jules' palm made contact with her face in a resounding smack. Jules watched her cousin lift her fingertips to her reddened cheek. Maggie lowered her eyes as she fought tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Dad…we thought…we thought it would be better if you didn't know."

"And after you saw what they really were?" Jules demanded. Her voice never changed pitch or volume, which made her words resonate more with Maggie, who knew Jules to shout when miffed but to be quiet when truly angry. For her to appear calm was always a huge red flag. "What, you couldn't be bothered to tell me that the things that killed my parents and your mom and brother were just cooling their jets in the fucking barn?"

"We thought we were doing the right thing. We thought we were protecting you."

"By keeping it a secret? Everyone knew but me? That's not protection, it's making me a fool. You're my family. I trusted you."

"I'm sorry," Maggie said again.

"Don't talk to me."

Jules shook her head and brushed past her cousin, entering the house and letting the screen door slam shut. She felt ill. The only family she had left had betrayed her trust in the vilest way possible. She'd done nothing but respect Hershel's wishes, aside from seeing Daryl, but he'd still kept this from her. He'd still treated her like an outsider, like a stranger. For as much as he played up family ties, it seemed that he didn't hold her in any higher esteem than Rick and his people.

Walkers in the barn.,,

Images of her parents flashed into her mind, her father's face lined with sorrow, her mother's body, sweat still drying, lying on her bed. And then, suddenly, not.

Jules bypassed the stairs and ran for the bathroom. She barely made it before her stomach rebelled. When her body was empty, she sank to the floor and leaned her face against the cool porcelain bathtub. Once she'd stopped shaking, she stood and brushed her teeth, carefully going through the motions without thinking about anything. She went down the hall to her room and pulled her backpack out of the closet. She stuffed some clothes—a few pairs of jeans, a handful of underwear, some tanks and long sleeved shirts—and a box of tampons into the pack. She ignored the knock on her doorframe.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't spare Beth a glance. "Packing my shit. I can't stay here. Not anymore."

"But where will you go?"

The girl's voice held the panic that Jules wouldn't allow herself to feel. Where _would_ she go? Daryl certainly wouldn't want her hanging around him, not anymore. Not since he thought she'd known about…

"I don't know. Maybe there's room in Dale's RV for one more. It doesn't matter. Anywhere's better than here."

"You can't! You can't just leave!"

"The hell I can't," Jules said coolly. She slung her pack over her shoulder as she'd seen Daryl do with his crossbow. "Get outta my way, Beth."

The girl shook her head. "Daddy didn't mean to hurt you. He just knew that you thought the sick people were beyond help."

She was starting to shake again, but she didn't want to take her anger out on Beth. She was just a silly kid trying to make some sense of all this, no matter how ridiculous. She believed anything she was told because it was easier than believing the truth.

_There's nothin' in the barn except some rusted-out tractor equipment. Hershel locked it up so nobody'd hurt themselves on it_…

Why hadn't she seen through that load of bull? Shaking her head, she stepped toward Beth. "Please just move. I need some time, Bethie."

The girl wrapped herself around Jules' waist. "Please be careful. I can't lose you too. I can't."

Jules ran a hand over the girl's hair and kissed the top of her head. "I just need some time."

Beth nodded and released her, sniffing back tears, and Jules stepped around her. She went downstairs, heading for the door. She heard Hershel talking and glanced over, surprised to see Rick leaning casually against the table.

Good to know he's taking this all in stride, Jules thought bitterly. She didn't say a word to the men as she left the house. Jimmy came running around the corner like the devil was after him. He didn't spare her a glance. She could see Daryl in the distance but ignored him as she walked to Dale's RV and lightly knocked on the door.

"Julia," the older man said as he opened the door. "I wasn't expecting it to be you. Come in, come in." He spied her bag and his brushy eyebrows furrowed.

"I need some time away from the house," she said quietly. "I don't know if Daryl told you guys about my parents?"

"Daryl doesn't really share," Dale replied. "But you don't have to explain to me. If you didn't know about the walkers, I'm sure it's a shock to—"

"I swear, Dale. I swear I didn't!"

"It's okay," Dale said quickly. "It's okay, sweetheart." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a fatherly hug. Jules resisted for a second before crumpling against his chest. He had a way about him that reminded her of her dad, another openly caring soul.

She tried to keep from crying. She'd made it this long, battling feelings of anger and fear and betrayal, and she hated to undo all of her hard work by sobbing into Dale's tacky shirt. As soon as he petted her hair, though, the way her daddy used to do when she was upset, she was gone. She hadn't cried for her parents, hadn't shed so much as one tear since this whole hell-on-earth started. She just didn't see the point. It caught up with her, though, and as she buried her face against Dale's chest, she cried long and hard, big, wet, ugly sobs that wracked her whole body.

That's how Daryl found them, with Jules clinging to Dale and the old man lightly rubbing circles on her shoulders as she cried. Dale's wide eyes locked on his and silently pleaded for relief from his current position, but Daryl didn't know what the hell to do with a cryin' woman. Still, seeing Jules broken down like that…

He stepped into the RV and gently took her arm, giving a nod to Dale, who beat a hasty retreat. "Ya a'right?" He shook his head at himself. _Of course not, asshole_, he thought. _She's cryin' ain't she? _"I mean, do you need somethin'?" Jules shook her head and struggled to calm herself. She took several deep, shaky breaths and tried to breathe through her stuffy nose. She avoided his eyes like they might've shot lasers. Daryl slipped his thumbs under the straps of her backpack and slid it from her shoulders. "Where you goin'?" She shrugged, still not looking at him. "Look, I'm sorry. 'bout before, I mean. I shouldn'ta yelled at you like that, I guess." He rubbed his palms over the place where he'd gripped her earlier. He chewed on his lip nervously. "Did I hurt your arms?"

"No," she said quietly. _Just my heart_.

"Look, apologies are sorta my weak spot, so…I don't really know how to go about sayin' I'm sorry, other than to just say it." Jules slowly pulled away from him and sat on the bench. Daryl wished she'd get mad or something. He could take anger; it fueled his own. But this? This quiet, defeated thing that she was doing? It was damn near killing him. "Look, I told you right after we started this thing that I ain't no good at it."

"I don't care about any of that, Daryl."

"Well what do you want then? I said I was sorry and I meant it, which is a hell of a lot more than most people get."

She looked up at him, her black eyes rimmed with red from her earlier crying spell. "I'm not most people. You're not supposed to be with me like you are by most people. Things are supposed to be different. You're supposed to _trust_ me. Not fly off the handle and think that I'm in on some great conspiracy that endangers the lives of everyone on this farm."

"How was I supposed to know, Jules? It ain't like I was exactly prepared to find out your uncle was keepin' walkers as pets."

"You were supposed to know because you were supposed to know me!" She was finding her voice again, her emotions having scaled the spectrum and circled back to anger. "After everything I've told you about my folks, everything we've ever talked about—after everything we've both lost because of those…those _things_!—you had the nerve to treat me like I was on board with keeping them? And now you want to just roll up in here with a 'I'm sorry' and expect it all to be okay? Well tough shit, Dixon, 'cause it's not okay. Everything is not okay!"

Daryl didn't know what to say to her. If he'd been a man like Rick, or even a touchy-feely kid like Glenn, he could have come up with some nice heartfelt apology that woulda made her forget her pain and make her stop being mad at him. As it was, he'd just made it worse by thinkin' his lame ass 'sorry' would do. He scratched his cheek and nodded silently.

"I'mona go look for Sophia." He looked at her bag, wanting to tell her to go stow it in his tent if she was hellbent on staying outside the house. Instead, he stepped over it and left the RV.

Jules tucked her knees against her chest and laid her forehead against them as she started to cry again.


	3. Chapter 3

Later, Jules climbed the ladder of the RV and rested her elbows on the roof, propping her chin in her hands. "Mind if I come up?"

Glenn turned to look at her, his eyebrows high. "No! Come on." He held a hand down to her, helping her onto the roof. He shuffled nervously. "So…how are you? I mean, I noticed you and Maggie on the porch earlier." He looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Jules. I didn't know it was going to go down like this, and now everybody's mad at everybody—"

"It's not your fault, sweetie," Jules said. "Don't you even worry about it." She looked past Glenn's shoulder to the figure coming up the driveway, and she sighed. She reached for his gun and jerked her chin toward Maggie. "Go on and talk to her," she said. "Go on, I'll cover you."

Glenn smiled thanks and passed her the rifle before scaling down the RV and hurrying toward her cousin. Jules didn't spy on them, instead turning her attention to the two figures emerging from the woods at the border of the west field. She looked through the scope, easily identifying Carol's lean form and Daryl's familiar gait. She watched him walk, head down, shoulders slumped, as if trying to make himself as invisible as possible, even though it was just him and Carol walking companionably.

She was surprised to find that watching him made her sad, even at the same time as it made her happy. She wondered what all he'd gone through to end up with such a low opinion of his worth. They'd talked briefly of his brother—a real peach, from what she gathered—but Daryl's issues seemed to run much, much deeper. Her heart broke for him, though he'd probably never talk to her again if he knew. He didn't want pity, especially from her. He'd said as much when she'd listened to him tell about losing his brother.

She watched as they approached the house and Daryl gestured with his hands, probably griping about something. She frowned when she saw Shane coming up after them. He was walking with purpose, and for all she could tell, that was rarely a good thing. Curious, she slung the rifle over her shoulder and scampered down the RV. She quickened her pace when Shane started passing out guns. He'd just passed one to Glenn and was talking to Maggie when she approached.

"What's going on here?" she asked Carol.

"I—I don't know. We just got here," the woman said quietly as Lori hissed at Shane, who was trying to give a gun to the boy.

"Daryl, y'all need to—"

Jules' protest was interrupted by T-Dog, who swore and turned the group's attention to the woods out by the barn. Hershel, Jimmy, and Rick were leading two walkers by poles toward the barn. She heard Shane talk, heard Daryl say, "Julia, you keep your ass up here."

She saw the others take off at full tilt toward her uncle, but she could not take her main focus from the snapping, groaning jaws of the creatures they were ushering in. She moved forward slowly and watched from a distance as the group fell around Hershel and Rick. Everyone was shouting at once, everyone holding guns up. Her eyes found Daryl, who was hovering behind Rick with his shotgun raised and ready. Even Glenn was pointing at them. She wondered if they realized that if they started firing at the walkers, they'd probably end up hitting Rick and Hershel and Jimmy too. She wondered if, at that moment, anybody cared. Probably not.

She'd just passed through the gate when Shane pulled a pistol from his waistband and shot the female in the chest. He was ranting, Rick was shouting at him, and everyone else was just standing by, too afraid or shocked to do anything. Daryl never took his attention from the walker Rick was holding, even when Shane continued popping off shots. Shane shot the female in the head and Jules shook herself from the trance she was in as she watched her uncle sink to his knees.

"Enough risking our lives for a little girl who's _gone_!" Shane was shouting.

Jules glanced at Patricia, who was holding Beth's hand, and hurried to her uncle's side to kneel next to Maggie. Glenn hovered behind her, his gun now pointed at the ground. "Uncle Hersh?" she whispered, laying a hand on the old man's shoulder. Her eyes locked with Maggie and she knew that her worried expression mirrored her cousin's. She turned her attention to Shane, who was still ranting like a madman, and wondered why in the hell nobody had made a move against him. He turned and ran for the barn, scooping up a pick axe and slamming it against the doors. Rick was screaming at Hershel to take the pole he was holding, but her uncle was staring into oblivion. Jules pushed herself to her feet and made to take the pole, but Daryl shouted from behind Rick.

"Don't you give that pole over to that girl, Rick!"

Rick looked at her as he struggled with the walker. Lori was shouting at Rick—everyone was shouting. Chaos reigned. Jules cursed and ran around the walker, running flat-out at Shane's back. She jumped on him just as he put the pick beneath the barricade, but he shook her off easily and tossed her aside. She made another grab at him but he lifted his elbow, catching her chin, and she went sprawling in the dirt. He jerked the bar off the door and slammed against it to get the walkers' attention before scooping an arm around Jules and shoving her toward the others as he pulled his gun.

Jules stumbled, still a little dazed from the knock from Shane's elbow. She spat blood and looked at Daryl with wide eyes as he knelt in front of her. He cupped her chin and angled her head up so he could see.

"I'm fine," she said. She looked over her shoulder as Shane began shooting walkers. She shoved at Daryl's legs. "Go. Go!"

Everything was chaotic. She looked across the driveway at Hershel and Maggie. Maggie was crying as she nodded at Glenn. Shane turned to glare at Rick and shot the walker he was holding in the head. Carl darted around Lori and hurried toward his father, but Rick stopped him. Carol stood off alone, watching in horror as walker after walker emerged from the barn.

After a few moments—after a few lifetimes—it was quiet. Everyone stared at the pile of bodies, too transfixed by the gruesome reality of what had just happened to look away. Daryl put down his shotgun and looked back at her. She gave him a small nod as a single tear slipped down her cheek. Dale approached from the back. In all of the action, she hadn't realized that he was missing. His horrified eyes met hers and she looked away.

There was movement in the barn. Jules looked back as a skinny kid emerged, so small that she fit through the gap between the doors without having to push against them. Jules looked at the others, at the dumbstruck horror on their faces, and she knew. Even before Carol bolted past her, she knew that it was the little girl they'd been looking for. Daryl caught the grieving mother his arms, dropping his shotgun and holding onto her as she wrestled against his hold and called her daughter's name.

The little girl shuffled forward, grunting in the way of the walkers, yet nobody made a move. _Where's your call to arms now, big man?_ Jules thought, looking at the back of Shane's head. She'd never considered herself particularly violent, but she wanted nothing more at that moment than to bash his fucking skull in. _Where's your gung-ho sense of getting shit done? Not the biggest badass in town, now, huh?_

She started toward him, ignoring the walker girl, only wanting to hurt Shane in a bad way, but Dale took hold of her arm. Rick strode forward and took out his gun. He hesitated for a brief moment before firing, killing Sophia for good.

Afterward, Carol's quiet wails of sorrow were the only sound they heard. The woman broke away from Daryl as he tried to get her to turn away from her daughter's body. Nobody tried to stop her. Daryl went off by himself, but before Jules could go after him, Beth left Jimmy's arms and rushed forward, shoving a corpse out of the pile, and fell to her knees. Jules brought a hand to her mouth as bile filled it when she recognized the putrid remains as those of her aunt.

The walker revived, gripping Beth's arms. The men ran forward and pushed her away before beating the creature back. Jules watched stoically as Andrea put the blade of a scythe through her aunt's head. Beth was in hysterics as Hershel ushered her away toward the house.

Jules wrapped her arms around Maggie's shoulders as they followed the others back. Shane trailed them, raising hell and making allegations about them knowing that Sophia was in the barn. Jules clenched her teeth and prayed that they made it to the house quickly. Her family had been through enough for one day, they didn't deserve to have to listen to Shane. Also, she didn't want to cause her uncle any more pain by seeing her lose it completely on the sonofabitch. Rick grabbed Shane's arm but Shane broke away and kept at their heels.

"I didn't know," her uncle said feebly when Shane kept it up.

"That's bullshit. I think y'all knew."

Maggie whirled. "We didn't know!"

"Why was she there?"

_Five more feet, five more feet_, Jules chanted to herself.

Hershel let Beth and Patricia go and turned to face his accuser. "Otis put those people in the barn. Maybe he found her and put her in there before he was killed?"

"You expect me to believe that?" Shane asked, stepping forward. Rick blocked his path, putting a hand against his chest. "What I look like? I look like a idiot?"

"Take another step," Jules said, stepping around Hershel. She shoved hard against Shane's chest and pointed her finger in his face. He was more solidly built than Daryl, but he still staggered back a step or two. "You gonna look like a dead man if you don't back the fuck off."

"Julia Elaine, you watch your mouth," Hershel barked. He looked at Shane and raised his arms. "I don't care what you believe."

"Everybody just calm down," Rick said. He looked pleadingly at Jules and Glenn came forward to lay a restraining hand on her shoulder.

Jules shook her head at him. "Give it up, man."

"Get him off my land!" Hershel said, jabbing a finger at Shane.

"Lemme tell you somethin' man—"

Maggie jumped down the steps, shoving at Shane's arm. She slapped him hard, his face snapping to the side with the force of the hit. "DON'T TOUCH HIM!" She glared at Shane as Glenn lightly pushed him back, stepping up to protect Maggie in case the deputy retaliated. "Haven't you done enough?" she asked Shane hotly. She went back up onto the porch where Beth was still crying quietly in Patricia's arms. Hershel backed up the steps.

"I mean it," he said. "Off my land." He looked at Jules before he went inside, as if to ask, _Is this the group you choose?_

She didn't know what to do. Glenn who lightly laid a hand on the small of her back and ushered her up the steps, away from Rick and Shane, and into the house where Maggie was waiting for them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's** **Note**: This is the last chapter of this one. Who knows if there'll be another. It's up to the bunnies, yeah?  
Here comes the [primal] sex. And then there is more [tender] sex. Fairly step-by-step details. Reader beware. :)

Jules approached the ruins of the old well house with slow and careful steps. The lightweight cotton skirt she'd worn to the funeral swished softly around her legs. Daryl had moved his tent even further away from the house and his small fire threw off just enough light to make the rest of the night even darker.

He sat on the ground, leaning against the stones of the ruined wall and whittling away at a stick. A bottle of whiskey sat next to him, nearly empty. Jules leaned against the wall and slid down into a sitting position.

"The hell you want?" he asked, not looking at her.

Jules smiled softly. "Back to that, are we?" She wrapped her arms around her knees. "Whatcha makin'?" she asked, leaning over to look.

"Arrows." He frowned down at the stick and whacked away at the bark. "Not really in the mood to chat," he said acidly.

"That's fine. I don't have to talk."

"Since when?"

She ignored his anger. If he thought he'd chase her away by being a jackass, he had another thing coming. It had been an emotionally draining day for everyone, but for Daryl… She hadn't known him as long as she would have liked, but she'd known him long enough to know how deeply he felt things, even if he refused to acknowledge it himself.

After seeing that she wasn't going anywhere, Daryl tossed his half-formed arrow onto a stack a little ways away from the fire before pushing himself to his feet and stalking to his tent. Jules waited to see if he was going to come back out, but when the flap stayed shut, she sighed quietly and walked over to it, crawling into the tent and zipping it behind her. She flipped on the little touch-light she'd brought out a few nights after they'd started their relationship, since she wasn't adept at walking around in the dark as he was.

Daryl was stretched out on the ground, having not even bothered to put down the thick blanket and egg-crate bed pad she'd given him to sleep on. He faced the wall of the tent and didn't move when she entered. "Can't you take a fuckin' hint, woman? I don't want you here."

"I know you don't," she said softly. She knelt beside him and stretched her body out behind his, wrapping one arm around his stomach and propping her head on the other. He was wound tight, every muscle tense. "That don't mean you don't need me here, though."

He scoffed. "I ain't some pussy that needs to be coddled. You need to get on back to the house."

She didn't respond, she just ran a hand down his arm and laid her hand over his fist. After a minute, his hand relaxed a bit and she was able to link her fingers with his. She leaned forward to rest her cheek against his hair and held him close. His thumb idly brushed her fingertips in an unconscious habit. They lay silent for a long while and she felt the tension leave him little by little.

"All that time," he said suddenly. "The whole damn time that little girl was dead, and I was just some asshole telling her mama that she'd be a'right."

"Shh. You can't blame yourself," she whispered. "You did your best—"

"Wasn't good enough though, big surprise," he interrupted angrily.

"Don't think that way."

He turned his head slightly, looking back at her. "This is what you came all the way out here for, ain't it? Caring and sharing? Or did you just come to fuck?"

"Daryl—"

He rolled over and stared down at her, his blue eyes glowing hot. "Figured that'd be the best way to get me back on my game, huh, since I'm just some dumb redneck who lives by base instinct?"

"Stop. I know you're hurting, but you need to stop talking like that."

"Stop thinking like that, stop talking like that," he sneered. "Hell, woman, is there anything I _am_ allowed to do?" He looked down at her, her hair spread out on the floor like a dark halo and the thin tank top she'd worn to the funeral stretched tight over her breasts. He fell on her lips without warning, catching her startled squeak in his mouth. The whiskey on his tongue simultaneously stung and soothed the little split on her lip from catching Shane's elbow. He caught her wrists when she brought her hands to his chest and pushed them back down, pinning them beneath his palms on either side of her head. He moved over her, nudging her thighs apart with his knee as he kissed his way down her neck. He released her wrists and pushed her shirt and bra up before taking one nipple deeply into his mouth and teasing her other breast with his fingers.

Jules gripped the sides of his head as he devoured her breast with almost painful pulls of his mouth. Waves of stinging pleasure rippled through her. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she felt him wince.

"Fixin' to fuck you senseless, girl."

"Get to it, then," she panted. This wasn't a romantic encounter, not tonight. Tonight was for healing, and if that healing had to come from both of them pouring every ounce of wild ferocity into their passion, then so be it.

Daryl's hand left her breast and his teeth replaced it as his fingers went in search of something better. He unbuttoned his pants and shoved her skirt up before he pushed her underwear aside. He entered her without any ado, groaning at the fact that she was ready for him. His bitch craved his touch as much as he craved hers.

He gripped each of her thighs and pushed her legs up, angling his hips and stirring as he thrust into her. He saw her clench her teeth as her body was assailed by sensation, her hands grasping blindly at his shoulders. He leaned down and sucked her nipple into his mouth again, syncing the driving of his hips to the flicks of his tongue. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close, but he leaned back again and pulled away, scooping a hand beneath the backs of her knees and rolling her hips up so that he could pull her panties off. He gripped her hips and flipped her onto her stomach before he slammed into her core again, grunting with exertion, his eyes closed tight as he was spurred on by her little gasps and moans and pleasure-filled curses. His body coiled tight and light exploded behind his eyelids as he came with a deep groan. He pulled out and dragged her around so that she faced him again before he dropped his hand between her legs, this thumb pressing and circling hard against that precious bundle of nerves hidden away at the center of her body.

"Come on, girl. Come for me. Right now." He bent his head and kissed her, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth. He moved back to her breast and nipped her skin at the same time he gave his wrist a twist, and Jules' hips slammed up as her orgasm ripped through her.

Daryl tried to roll away after she was finished, but she hooked a leg over his hip, wincing a bit at the delicious ache the movement caused. Daryl collapsed on top of her, his breath coming in short gasps. He laid his head over her breast and listened to her racing heartbeat.

Jules couldn't think of anything to say, so she stayed quiet. She ran her hands through his hair, trailing the fingertips of one hand down his stubbled jaw and along his bottom lip. Her other hand petted him lightly, brushing his hair back from his face and rubbing his scalp soothingly. It wasn't long before both of them, emotionally and physically exhausted, slipped off to sleep.

When Daryl woke the next morning, his pounding head made him regret nearly killing a bottle by himself, and looking at Jules made him regret how rough he'd been with her. The early morning light cast the inside of the tent in a soft glow and he could see the consequences of his animalistic behavior. At some point during the night, Jules had shed her clothes and regained her underwear, and he could see that her chest was dotted with hickeys and little pink marks from his beard and fingernails. He frowned down at her bare legs and lightly touched the bruises on her hips. He'd done those too. God only knew what he'd done to her…in other places. He nibbled the inside of his lips, thinking back on the night. Most of it was a blur, with the exception of the mind-blowing sex. At least he'd finished her and hadn't left her hanging. He exhaled slowly, wishing there was some way to erase the shitty way he'd treated her.

Jules shifted in her sleep, scooting closer to the warmth of his body. She moved her legs and he could see dark bruises on her thighs as well.

"Fuckin' asshole," he whispered. He reached down to nudge her legs apart so that he could see how bad the fingertip-sized bruises were on her soft skin.

As soon as his hand brushed her thigh, Jules shifted again with a soft exhalation and a subtle arching of her hips. Her lips parted and she sighed contentedly. Daryl carefully maneuvered around so as not to wake her, moving to kneel over her. He lowered his head and gently kissed her marked flesh, lightly prodding her legs apart. Jules stirred and woke, taking a deep breath as she looked down at him.

"What're you doin'?" she asked sleepily.

Daryl smiled at her, a rare sight, and held her gaze as he lowered his mouth back to her skin. The muscles in Jules' legs went lax, falling open in a very unladylike manner. Daryl took advantage of her weakness and bent her leg, kissing along her thigh, flicking his tongue over every damnable bruise on her creamy skin. She breathed his name and he felt his body stir, but he wasn't worried about himself. He'd take care of that later. Right now, he had to make up for being such an asshole last night.

He took her panties between his fingers and slowly pulled them down her legs, tucking his tongue between his teeth as he tossed them aside and looked down into her passion and sleep-glazed eyes. He lowered his head again, this time giving her other thigh the same attention as the previous. He kissed a scratch between her hip and her center that he'd given her, presumably when he'd flipped her, and ran his tongue slowly along the pink mark. He grinned up at her when her hips arched slightly. He lifted her leg and draped it over his shoulder before getting back to the task at hand.

When his lips touched her hot flesh, Jules thought she would float completely off the floor. Nobody had ever…

Oh, oh God!

She wasn't sure if she said it aloud or not, but she kept repeating it as Daryl's lips and tongue worked magic on her body. Her hands gripped his hair and she moved against his mouth, unable to remain still. Her back bowed as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her body and she came with a shout, sinking back down to the floor. _So this is what all those romance writers mean about feeling like a melted candle,_ she thought with a sigh. "Daryl," she rasped quietly.

"Ain't finished with you yet, honey," he said, crawling up her body. He dipped his head and placed a light kiss on one of the nicks on her breast before lying next to her and scooping her up so that she lay on top of him. He stacked his hands behind his head and looked up at her, tousled and marked and content from lovin' on him, and he got a funny feeling in his stomach. He wasn't sure what real love felt like, but at that moment he figured it musta maybe felt a little like that. He sat up and kissed her, loving the taste of her mouth and body on his tongue at the same time. "You're in charge, girl."

She smiled at him. She knew what he was doing—the exchange of power because he'd lost control the night before. The fact that he thought he had to make it up to her for giving her the most primal, amazingly animalistic sex of her life just made her love him that much more than she already did. And she did, she realized. It came outta nowhere and had no real reason to be there, but there it was just the same.

"You a'right?" he asked, concerned by her silence. "We don't have to—"

She put a finger to his lips, shushing him. "Oh no, you're not getting out of it now," she teased.

He nipped at her fingertip and ran his thumb along her bottom lip, frowning at the bruise in the corner. "I do that too?" Could you bruise someone with a kiss?

She shook her head. "I got a mouthful of Shane's elbow, remember?"

His expression turned stormy. "I'mona kill that sonofabitch."

She shook her head again. "Nearly did myself," she admitted. "Wanted to. But now ain't for thinkin' about that kinda thing. All that'll come butting back in soon enough. I got other needs to address."

"Whatchoo need?" he asked huskily.

She gripped the hem of his battered, sleeveless shirt and tugged it over his head as she pushed at his pants. Daryl leaned back to lift his hips so he could slide his pants off and she laughed as she followed him down. She laid her hands on his chest and smiled down at him before giving him a playful kiss and sitting back up so that she straddled his lap. She could feel his body, ready and waiting. She lowered herself a bit and then raised back up, grinning at him when he groaned.

"Christ, woman. You tryin' to kill me, ain'tcha?"

She chuckled and wrapped an arm around his neck, slowly lowering herself onto him with a low, quiet moan. Daryl's arms came around her and she clung to him, riding him to her own time. Her free hand trailed over his cheek. Their breaths mingled as they fought to rush through this. Her eyes fluttered closed and her head fell back as she rolled her hips. Daryl leaned forward to kiss the exposed column of her throat, bringing one hand up to bury in her hair. Her breathing picked up and he knew that she was close. She raised her head and he leaned his forehead against hers, letting his eyes close.

"Look at me," she said. His blue eyes popped open and locked her gaze. She cupped his head between her hands as she picked up the pace, her eyes never wavering from his.

_I love you_, hers said.

_I need you_, his answered.

She ducked her head and fused her mouth to his a second before she came. Daryl followed her immediately and sank back to the floor without any kind of grace.

Jules lay sprawled on top of him for a long time, listening to his frantic heartbeat and letting him trail his calloused fingertips up and down her back. She smiled against his skin and he lifted his head to arch a brow at her.

"You're lookin' pretty smug there, miss."

She grunted. "I's just thinkin'."

Daryl stacked his hands behind his head again. "'bout what?"

She shook her head, but he kept looking at her, so she rolled her eyes. "I's just thinking that I enjoy waking up beside you."

"Aw, hell," he muttered.

"See? That's why I didn't want to say anything," she said with a laugh, thumping his chest. "I knew you'd be a butthole."

"Woman, you ain't woke up beside me."

"What?"

He held up his hands, palms facing her. "This is _beside_," he said. He put his palms together. "This is how you woke up. This is _under_." He bumped his hands together, rolling them in a suggestive motion.

"Omigod, you're such a child sometimes," she said with a laugh. He chuckled with her and dropped his hands, petting her hair and going back to stroking her back.

If wishes were free and life was fair, Jules could have laid in that tent forever, just her and her man. All too soon, however, they heard voices approaching the tent and knew that life, or whatever their existence could've been called, went on whether it was fair or not.

With a quick kiss to her forehead, Daryl rolled and pulled away from her, sorting through the cramped space and retrieving her clothes before pulling on his pants and leaving the tent.

**A/N2:** So, there you have it. There's still some more of season 2 that can be addressed, should the Bunnies That Be deem it doable, so perhaps there'll be another Daryl & Jules story. Thanks for reading! 3


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